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“Why would you tell her this?” Madinia hissed. “Are you trying to torture her? To make her second-guess her every decision?”
“I am trying to prepare her. She can control many things, but she cannot control the fates.”
“Fuck the fates,” Madinia snapped.
I seemed to have become incapable of speech. My mind had gone cloudy, as if I couldn’t even fully form thoughts. All I could see was Lorian’s face.
And then Ysara’s voice tripped through my head. “Enjoy your time with your fae prince. But know this—you cannot keep him.”
Had she been warning me, even then?
“You must go,” the woman said. “You have lingered here for too long.”
With a final glance at the queen, I turned away, stumbling toward the door. Madinia led me along the servants’ hall, both of us ignoring the choked gasps from anyone who recognized us.
“If you want to keep your life, stay away from the throne room,” Madinia announced to any servants we came across. She lit up her hand and kept her fire burning threateningly as we made our way down the stairs. It was eerie, with most of the servants and guards busy with Rythos. Many of the others were with Regner, while still more were outside gawking at the carnage beyond the castle gates.
The queen had prepared ahead of time, ensuring that Auria was out of the castle on some useless overnight errand. As a null, she was one of the few threats to this part of the plan.
I would never forget how she had removed my ability to access my power.
“Prisca,” Madinia prodded me, her voice grim.
“Don’t tell Lorian.” Was that my voice? It sounded so far away.
She grabbed my hand, forcing me to stop, and her eyes narrowed at whatever she saw on my face. “If you think you’re carrying this alone, you’re wrong.”
I blinked, forcing myself to focus on our conversation. But all I could hear was the seer’s words.
“When the land itself repels war, and unnatural clouds obscure the sun… When the waves are coerced…and reflection deceives… The Bloodthirsty Prince will die.”
What if…what if he wasn’t known as the Bloodthirsty Prince anymore? Could I trick the fates that way?
Some of the weight slipped off my shoulders. I would fix this somehow. Prophecies didn’t always come true. I refused to believe that we were all just the gods’ playthings, destined to act out whatever fate they had written for us. I wouldn’t let Lorian die. It wasn’t going to happen, so the old woman’s words were irrelevant.
“We need to go,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like me. Madinia shook her head, but she knew I was right.
I forced myself to focus on the next part of our plan. There were enough people with water magic in this castle that our fire would be contained quickly. This was a symbol. A statement. A way to prove to those suffering in this city that they weren’t alone. That we were still fighting for them.
The throne room stretched out like a cavern. I’d never seen it empty like this before—without even the usual guards on each door. In front of both thrones, a wooden altar had been built, surprisingly sparse for the otherwise ostentatious space. Frowning, I took a few steps forward. What was it?
My breath caught. Bile crawled up my throat. Manacles hung from each corner of the wood. Blood had soaked into the pale grain.
Madinia let out a string of curses.
How many hybrids had Regner tortured here, in front of his court? How much blood had he spilled? How many families were missing their loved ones?
She glanced at me, and I nodded, unable to speak.
Madinia waved her hand. The bloodstained wood ignited with a crackle, orange tongues of flame leaping to the plush silk cushions sitting on each throne. The cushions smoldered, the material turning black as they shriveled until they were little more than ash.
I took a few steps backward, listening carefully for the sound of anyone approaching from beyond the throne room. I needed to conserve my power, but I refused to be disturbed until we were finished here.
The heavy floor-to-ceiling curtains were next, and I basked in the acrid tang of smoldering opulence as Madinia’s fire roared through them. She glanced at the wooden chairs lining the walls—where Regner’s court had no doubt sat and watched while he engaged in many of his torture sessions. The chairs turned to little more than kindling, but Madinia was already refocusing on the thrones.
The gold was blackened, but that wasn’t enough for Madinia. She lifted one hand and poured her power into the thrones, slowly walking toward them. The gold began to warp.
Impossible. Lorian could melt gold with his fae fire, but this…
